faderift | LET'S DRINK, DRINK, THIS TOWN IS SO GREAT (open)

WHO: Kitty
WHAT: Catch-all open log for those who want to thread!
WHEN: Oh, any time either before or after the Mire.
WHERE: Around Skyhold
NOTES: There are hideous sweaters in here.

1. Ugly not-Christmas sweaters.
[ There are three things, Kitty has learned, that the Inquisition likes. First: thick socks, heavy cloaks, and warm clothing of all sorts. Second is loud shouting matches over the fate of mages - which, truth be told, Kitty likes to hear; this is something that needs to be figured out, and shouting is good for a person, in her opinion. Third is drinking.

Today she's seeing to the first love of the Inquisition. A month ago, she'd had a few days off from the tavern, and so she'd taken her pony out exploring. She'd found a little freeholder far out from Skyhold, a widow with a few sheep and a spinning wheel who wasn't willing to venture out to sell her wares. Kitty had traded provisions for the promise of future work, and so a few days she'd gone out and picked up the fruits of the woman's labors: a stack of lumpy, ugly, undyed, but very warm pullovers.

And Khalena Jonos might not have been born merchant caste, but she bloody well knows how to bargain when it comes down o it. She takes over a table out in the courtyard, snuggled down into her own (smaller) jumper, making a grand show of looking warm and cozy and comfortable next to her stack of woolen goods. ]

2. Getting turnt.
[ She also has regular work in the tavern, of course - seeing to love-of-the-Inquisition-number-three. She's no doubt a familiar presence here: a small, bustling, cheerful figure, standing on a stool so she can see over the bar to take orders, teasing the regulars and greeting newcomers.

In moments when she's not interacting with others, though, she listens. Intently. She positions herself near conversations that interest her, and finds a task to busy her: wiping down the counter, polishing mugs, tending to the stew that's always burbling above the fire. And she listens, as much as she can, and she commits everything to memory.

Still - she does her job. As soon as someone calls for her attention, she breaks away from the conversation she's listening to - no matter how interested she is - and calls out, cheerily: ]

I'll be right there! [ And then - ] What do you need?

3. Bookssssssssssss
[ Of course, when Kitty isn't at work, she's trying to learn. She can often be found skulking about the libraries, reading vociferously, anything she can get her hands on. She gets lost in it, too, going on for hours on end. That's why she's perched in an odd place - sitting on the table and stretching her book up against the wall so that the last of the cold, late-afternoon sunlight will fall on it and illuminate its surface. She wants to eke out a few last minutes of reading before night falls. ]

4. Every step you take etc.
[ And a good portion of her day, also, is given over to spying. On whom? On just about everyone. Her favorite targets are mage leaders and Inquisition bigwigs and Tevinters, but anyone who seems the least bit interesting, she'll follow around. And if they bump into her as she's following them around, find her out, well - she acts natural, hoisting the sack she's carrying up on her back and cheerily saying before they can ask any questions - ]

Oh, thank goodness. This is too much for me to carry - I don't suppose you could help me out?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[The Fallow Mire was...something, that was for sure. Jamie is more than glad to be back from it for the moment, and even happier to be somewhere that doesn't smell of damp and dead things. Perhaps there's other things that could stand doing - like a third wash of his kilt, even if it doesn't smell like bog anymore - but closing the rift like he did is still at the front of his mind, and a distraction seems very much like it's in order.

So he lifts his hand to get her attention, shard and all. When she responds, he gives her a brief, slightly crooked-appearing smile.]

I'll not say no to an ale when you get a chance. No hurry, though. It's good to be somewhere that's actually dry.

[ Her eyes fall immediately on that shard. She knows exactly what it means. She hasn't had much of a chance yet to speak with the Rifters - she's not wanted to seem overly curious about them, not when she's trying to seem like an ordinary barmaid, and they've been rather occupied with other things. As has she, for that matter. But upon being confronted with this one, she feels a burble of curiosity, a ferocious desire to know: where is he from? what was his life like there? what has he seen? Who is he?

But her curiosity bubbles up and then is pushed aside at once. If she's going to find something out, it'll come after a pint (or a few pints) of ale, when he's already comfortable and chatty. No good peppering him with questions right now. And he'll get chattier, too, if she seems incurious. Perfectly innocuous. ]

Well, you're welcome to that spot as long as you're drinking.

[ She flashes a grin at him, and turns to step up on her stepstool to tap the cask. ]

Are you back from the Mire, or are you having problems with damp in your room?

Then I'll just have to do that then, won't I?

[It's said with a smile, however - something that's very much a response to her earlier grin. Even though he has no notion who she is, she already seems much friendlier than the other dwarf he's seen working behind the bar. Right now, a friendly face is more than welcome, and he's more than happy to be friendly in return.]

Ah, I've not really found a room that's not been taken so far. Makes the damp in it a bit less of a problem. No, you were right the first time. 'Mire' is an excellent word for it, by the way. I'd not recommend it unless you're fond of swamps.

[He pauses briefly, then adds in one other possibly important thing. Or at least important as far he's concerned. Whether or not she'll think the same, he has no idea.]

And I'm Jamie, by the way. Figure if I'm going to be here awhile it'll make it easier to know who I am.

Kitty. Nice to meet you, Jaime.

[ She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, and then turns to the cask to pour him a bit of ale. One of the Rifters they've trusted to go out and fix problems, then...She wonders about that. Did they have to prove themselves, the Rifters? Or were they given free rein? Probably the former. Most of the people here would sooner hit themselves on their heads with rocks than trust the unfamiliar and new. ]

I suppose you'd like a spot of stew to go with the ale, too. It's good today. Where are you from, anyway? Your accent's curious.

Nice to meet you as well, Kitty.

[And she's right, the thought of stew is an appealing one. Appealing enough, in fact, that he perks up when she mentions some being available, shoulders squaring ever so slightly as he sits up a little straighter on the stool.]

A spot of stew? Yes, please! [For a second it seems as though he's going to say something more about that part of things, but her question gets him to hesitate for a second or two, caught in a moment where it seems like he wants to say something but doesn't wind up saying anything at all. After that passes, however, he winds up shrugging before reaching up and scratching at the back of his end.]

Everyone seems to think I'm from this place called Starkhaven, but I'm not. I'm from Scotland. I've not been there for a few years, mind, so maybe that's why my accent's a bit curious. Can't say as I've noticed it, myself. I'm guessing you're not from Starkhaven either, though.

I'm not, no. Though at least I've heard of Starkhaven. Scotland is new.

[ Her smile is pleasant, and just a little bit puzzled, as she puts the ale down in front of him. Scotland, and the word is...Well. A bit more prosaic than you'd expect from a place that exists in an entirely different world, really. You would think that on a different world, they'd have enchanting names, names that speak to the exotic or to the magic that brought these people here, a shimmering thrilling sort of name...Scotland sounds like some old island off the coast of Ferelden. ]

Where is it? [ It pays to play dumb, a bit, to lure people into giving more information. If she pretends she hasn't noticed that he's a Rifter, if she seems not particularly bright, then he might chat a bit more. ]

[At one point he would've said the shard would've marked him as a stranger for sure, but having met Sina, he's aware of the fact that there's at least one person around here with a shard in them that didn't actually fall through the rift. But he would've thought for sure the strange name would've clued her in that he wasn't from around here if the kilt hadn't. The fact that neither one of them seems to have done so throws him a bit, leaving him grasping for words as he tries to figure out what he's going to say.

It, ah. It's to the north. And, er...

[That's not going to work, he can tell already - and he pulls a face before settling back into his seat with an audible sigh.]

Look, I can't really explain it without explaining a whole lot of other things, too, and I've no idea if you'd want to hear it or not. But I'm not from around here at all. I fell through one of those rifts a few months ago and I've been here ever since. And I know that means people think I'm a demon, but I'm not. I'll not pop up behind you and try and turn you into ribbons or trick you into making deals or do whatever else it is those demons do.

LET'S DRINK, DRINK, THIS TOWN IS SO GREAT (open)

2 (To drink, drink, to no big surprise)

BUT WHAT WORD RHYMES WITH BURIED ALIVE

WHAT WORDS RHYME WITH BURIED ALIVE

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